


The First First Time

by miceenscene



Series: Shakarian - A Descent into Madness [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Diplomats Oh my!, F/M, Fluff, Humans, Light sexual harrassment, Missed Connection, Shakarian - Freeform, Telling Stories, Turians, With a little bit of plot to support more fluff, it's disgusting, they're so in loooove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 04:39:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16947159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miceenscene/pseuds/miceenscene
Summary: “What are you laughing about?”“Oh, just thinking about the first time we met.”"You mean when your boss threw you off the Saren investigation?”“No. The first time.”Aka, Garrus can't talk to girls and Shepard has bigger problems.





	The First First Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kelenloth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelenloth/gifts).



> Thanks to the "Birb Husband Squad" on discord for inspiring this adorable creation.

     Over the years, Garrus had seen Shepard in so many different ways. He’d seen her utterly triumphant and almost defeated. He’d seen her filled with righteous anger and drowning in regret. But this, right here, was probably his favorite way he saw her. The great Commander Shepard--savior of the Citadel, the Krogan, the Galaxy--dozing with her head on his lap.

     He knew she wasn’t fully asleep. She hummed occasionally as he carded his fingers through her hair. Brushing it all the way one way and then repeating the process in a different direction. Over and over again as the afternoon slowly drifted by around them.

     They had nowhere to go, no one to see. It was such a rare feat for the both of them that they’d found themselves sitting on their couch just looking at each other. Both a little lost with what to do. Oh, sure, they could have found something. There were boxes to unpack, mails to respond to, clothes to fold. But somehow it was better just to do nothing together.

     Shepard stretched, her arms reaching above her head languidly, and sighed deeply. She smiled up at him.

     “Can’t remember the last time we had a free afternoon like this,” she said, her eyes already starting to close again. Garrus hummed in agreement. They sank back into relaxing silence for a minute, then Garrus chuckled quietly. Shepard cracked an eye open.

     “What are you laughing about?”

     “Oh, just thinking about the first time we met.”

     Shepard thought and smiled a little. “I should have known right then and there that you were a loose canon. You practically shot Dr. Michel.”

     “I did not. And no, not that time.”

     “What? You mean when your boss threw you off the Saren investigation?”

     “No. The first time.”

     “What do you mean the first time? That was the first time.”

     “No, it wasn’t.” He looked down at her face carefully. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

     She sat up, her hair sticking out at odd angles from her head. She looked at him closely. “You messing with me?”

     “No. I swear. We met before the Citadel.”

     “When? Why don’t I remember?”

     “It was years ago, must have been what--75? 76? I don’t remember the name of the event anymore. It was some Turian-Human diplomatic function press-circus. But you were there. And so was I.”

 

     Garrus pulled at the collar of his formal jacket. It was just shy of choking him. And the back was so stiff he could hardly turn around. He hated this jacket. He hated these stupid galas his father kept dragging him to. It was always just standing around and listening to boring people talk about boring things. This one was even worse--he couldn’t even eat half the food here.

     “Stand up straight,” his father hissed to him. “It’s almost our turn.”

     Garrus corrected his posture but frowned deeper. His mood turning downright sullen. They were waiting for a chance to speak with the human contingency from the Earth’s Alliance. Was twenty minutes worth of waiting really worth two minutes of talking?

     “Ah, Ambassador, this is Castis Vakarian. One of the finest detectives in C-Sec’s history,” the Primarch said to the short rather round human man next to him.

     His father nodded.

     “Welcome to Palaven, Ambassador.” Garrus bit down on his back teeth to keep from scoffing at the exceedingly formal tone. “I hope the weather has not been uncomfortable for you.”

     “Not at all. I grew up in Phoenix, you see,” the ambassador laughed at his own joke. What was a phoenix, Garrus wondered. And why did the human ambassador seem think that three Turians would know?

     Stepping around the pregnant pause, Castis held out a hand towards Garrus. “This is my son, Garrus.”

     Garrus copied his father with a nod. It was usually best to just follow his father’s example, especially at these types of parties.

     “Ah, are you going to follow your father into C-Sec?” The ambassador asked, unknowingly stumbling into the biggest area of tension between the Vakarians.

     “Yes, sir,” Garrus replied, avoiding his father’s gaze. Not like he was given much of a choice of anything else.

     “Good man.”

     “Yes, the future of the Turians is bright indeed,” the Primarch said, clasping Castis on the shoulder. The ambassador looked between the two of them.

     “The future for both our races, yes.” He turned and called over his shoulder. “Shepard, come here.”

     A woman with bright red fringe at the table behind him tensed. She put down the flute she’d been drinking some sort of pink bubbly liquid from and stood next to the ambassador.

     “This is Staff--sorry, not anymore. Lieutenant Commander Shepard.” He put his hand on the commander’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Garrus watched the corners of her mouth turn down ever so slightly and she tensed up even more. He hadn’t spent much time at all around humans, but it wasn’t difficult to guess how she was feeling. Yet somehow the ambassador didn’t seem to notice.

     “The hero of Skyllian Blitz, of course.” Castis put out his hand and she shook it. “Castis Vakarian. We heard what happened all the way out here. Impressive leadership, Commander.”

     “The real credit goes to the colonists. None of us would have survived without them,” she said simply. Garrus was surprised. She seemed to really believe that. She wasn’t faking for show. She was probably the only one in the room not doing so.

     The ambassador chuckled. “Always so modest, this one.” His hand slipped off her shoulder. The commander’s face went suddenly blank--a calm before the storm. Garrus wanted to see if she would punch him but his father stepped in.

     “Ah, Commander, this is my son, Garrus. He’s finishing up at the military academy now.”

     Commander Shepard held out her hand.

     “You’re the most handsome Turian I’ve ever met. Let’s get married right now.”

 

     “I did not say that,” Shepard scoffed from her end of the couch. They were leaning against opposite arms; their feet tangled together in the middle.

     “You practically did,” Garrus said smugly. Shepard rolled her eyes and tossed a popcorn at him from the bowl on her lap. It hit him square on the nose. He picked it up before it disappeared between the cushions and tossed it back to her. She caught it in her mouth and crowed her achievement.

     Garrus smiled at her.

     “Alright, maybe you didn’t say exactly that.”

     “This does sound familiar though,” she said around a mouthful. “I’d only been to Palaven once before I became a Spectre. And I remember that ambassador.”

 

     Shepard hated this dress. She didn’t mind dresses in the general sense, but she despised this one for what it represented. She was supposed to be at this gala as an honored war hero. A less than subtle hint of what humans were capable of. She’d saved hundreds, thousands of goddamn lives. But the ambassador had insisted that her dress uniform would not do. She could save the whole goddamn galaxy and she’d still be just ‘the girl’.

     The high collar felt constricting and the the stretchy fabric left little to the imagination. Something she noticed the ambassador in particular was admiring. He had been far too ‘hands on’ this trip, in every sense of the word.

     As they walked into the glittering hall, he dared to place a hand on her lower back. That was bad enough, it got even worse when he started moving his hand in small circles.

     “This is it, Shepard,” he said, looking around proudly.

     “Lieutenant Commander,” she reminded him through gritted teeth.

     “We need to make a very good impression for the sake of Humanity.”

     “Ambassador, if you don’t take your hand off my ass, my fist will make a very lasting impression with your face.”

     He looked shocked, but thankfully he removed his hand. And she quickly turned to join the rest of their contingency at their designated tables.

     She was able to escape him for a while. He was busy bloviating to the poor Primarch and whatever saps decided they needed to speak to him. Seeing so many Turians gathered together in one place allowed her to recognize the differences between them. Even the shortest among them was taller than her. She wondered what the paint on their faces symbolized, very few had the same style.

     Despite the dress and the company, she found herself almost enjoying herself. The food wasn’t half bad; certainly better than the military rations she was used to. And the rest of the human contingency seemed just as tired of the ambassador as she was. There was a lot of camaraderie to be gained by a single enemy.

     But the ambassador was impossible to avoid forever. He was technically her superior on this little tour. And Admiral Hackett had been very clear that she was to be on her best behavior. The words ‘diplomatic incident’ had been said. Repeatedly. And so when the ambassador summoned her like some sort of pet, she shot back the rest of her champagne and went to his side.

     He was showing her off of course. She could practically smell the insecurity wafting off of his gleaming bald head. And he kept touching her.

     “The hero of Skyllian Blitz, of course.” She shook one of the Turians’ hands. She didn’t much care for being called a hero. And she liked even less the way the ambassador puffed up with undue pride.

     “The real credit goes to the colonists. None of us would have survived without them,” she replied. His stupid smile froze on his face.

     “Always so modest, this one.” His hand moved down her back and--oh, he was a dead man. Dead dead dead dead dead dead man. She barely kept her cool by repeating Hacket’s words again and again in her mind. She missed exactly what was said next--something about this skinnier Turian finishing up at the military academy.

     “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She forced a smile as they shook hands. “I apologize, but, please, excuse me.” She pushed past the Turians and out of the ambassador’s reach.

     “Forgive her,” the ambassador sputtered. “You know these military types, can hardly hold a conversation.”

     Garrus turned and shouted after her, “Wait, beautiful woman! Please come back! I think I love you!!”

 

     “Yes, that’s how I remember it going too,” Garrus said with a smile. Shepard was leaning up against his chest, wrapped up in his arms, as they sat on the couch. He pressed his face against the top of her head.

     “Wait. You weren’t finished,” Shepard interrupted.

 

     “Also, you seem like a better shot than me. Don’t ask me how I know that. I can just sense it,” Garrus shouted across the gala after her.

 

     Garrus growled into her neck, tickling the delicate skin. Shepard laughed and he held her so she couldn’t escape try as hard as she might.

     “I don’t think you were finished either,” Garrus said as she tried to catch her breath.

 

     “That’s ridiculous!” Shepard yelled back from across the gala. “Turian eyesight is scientifically better than humans. You are clearly the superior soldier. I wouldn’t want to meet you on the battlefield!”

     “You wouldn’t meet me on the battlefield!” Garrus cried passionately. “I’m always hidden up and away instead of getting down on the field where the real action is.”

     “That’s what snipers do!” Shepard shouted, standing up on a chair so all could see her. “It makes a lot of tactical sense. But I don’t care about the idiotic things you just said. You look very attractive in that formal jacket of yours and I don’t notice your facial blemishes at all!”

     “Thank you!” Garrus said, running away from the group and leaping over three tables in a single bound to reach her. “Your waist is very supportive. And this dress the ambassador made you wear is ludicrous!”

     Shepard threw herself into Garrus’ arms. “Well, I’m such a great leader that you would follow me into certain death, not once but three times, just because I asked.”

     Garrus twirled Shepard around and dipped her. “And I’m such a wise and resourceful member of your team that there’s no one else you trust more to have your back whenever you’re heading into danger.”

     “How lucky you are to have found me,” Shepard said.

     “How lucky we are to have each other,” Garrus replied.

 

     “That’s how it went right?” Shepard asked, a smile on her face. Garrus nodded, rubbing his cheek against hers.

     “That’s how I remember it.”

     They laughed. The rain continued to pour outside. 

     She intertwined her fingers with his.

     “It’s crazy that we met even before we met. What a small world,” Shepard marveled.

     “I understand you not remembering that, but I’m surprised you don’t remember what happened next.”

     “There’s more to this little tale?”

     “We haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

 

     It was later in the evening when his father caught Garrus’ eye and gestured into the crowd.

     “There’s Commander Shepard,” he said. Garrus looked over at her. She was standing against the wall, sipping from a different glass than before. Exactly where he’d be if his father didn’t make him stand by his side the whole time.

     “Yes,” Garrus said, a little confused.

     “Go talk to her.”

     “What? Why?” Panic suddenly rising and overwhelming the confusion.

     “If you’re going into C-Sec, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with humans. And she’s the best one they have, go. Talk. To her.”

     Garrus almost protested but his father had a look on his face that made him slowly rise from the table. As he made his way across the room, he mentally scrambled around. What on Palaven was he even going to say to this woman?

     But before he made up his mind, he was in front of her with her full attention.

     “Hello.” His subvocals cracked and he practically died right then and there. But if she heard, she made no mention. Thank the Spirits.

     “Hi,” she said, nodding to him. There was a pause and she was looking at him carefully.

     “Garrus Vakarian, we met earlier.” He gestured back to where the ambassador was still standing with the primarch.

     “Oh, right,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Garrus. I’ve met a lot of different people this evening, but I remember now.”

     He nodded. And she nodded. And then there was silence. Right. He was the one who came up to her. It was his social responsibility to provide a topic of conversation. Say something, Vakarian. Say anything!

     “Garrus, do you mind answering a question I have?” she asked. “I would ask the primarch but my ambassador seems convinced that I’m going to cause some sort of social mishap.”

     “I-I don’t mind.”

     “What does the paint signify?” She ran a finger over her cheek. “Is it familial?”

     “Oh. Yes. Well, no. It’s based on our ancient tribes. The family is part of the tribe.”

     “That makes sense. Thanks.”

     She nodded. And he nodded. And then there was silence. Again. She looked away and then back at him. The panic was rising again, but his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth.

     “So...you’re finishing up at the academy, right?” She asked. He nodded quickly. This was now twice that she had bailed him out. Get it together, Vakarian. It’s just a human. If he couldn’t talk to her, how in the spirits was he ever going to talk to a real girl?

     “Yes. Still a few more years till I’m done.”

     “Do you like it?” She asked. He frowned, he hadn’t ever really considered if he liked it or not. Being in the academy wasn’t something to like. It just was. Like the sun or gravity.

     “Uh… I suppose,” he managed.

     “How long till you graduate?”

     “Technically, 12 years. But I’m going to join C-Sec in the next 5 to finish up there.”

     “Wow. Man with a plan.” She smiled a little. “The brass always like to see that.”

     He nodded. Did she not have the next three decades of her life already mapped out too?

     “So why C-Sec?” She asked as she took a sip from her drink. He must have answered that question four times already this night. Good, easy familiar territory.

     “My father’s in C-Sec,” Garrus explained. The other Turians had nodded and moved the conversation along. But Commander Shepard frowned.

     “No, why are you joining C-Sec?” She asked again. Garrus frowned back.

     “Because my father is a detective with C-Sec.” He clarified. Her head tilted to the side.

     “But that doesn’t explain why  _ you _ want to join C-Sec.”

     “I-... It’s not a question of what I want,” he heard himself say. The words sounded eerily like ones he’d heard from his father before. The commander looked surprised.

     “Are you sure it’s not?” She asked. This was without a doubt the strangest person he had ever met. 

     “Of course it’s not. A-and even if it was… I… want to.” The words felt awkward in his mouth. “I want to ...hunt down bad people and protect the innocent.”

     “There are other ways to do that besides C-Sec, you know.” 

     He looked away, bewildered. She looked down at her drink.

     “Hm, perhaps the ambassador was right… Ignore me, Garrus. I’m sure you’ll do great in C-Sec. After all, it’s in your blood.” 

     He’d known that humans were different. More ‘individualistic’ is what his textbooks had said. But he never realized to what extent. The problem was… she was making a lot of sense. 

     “Are you doing what you want?” He asked. She looked at him thoughtfully.

     “Most of the time, yes. At the moment?” He noticed her glance over where the ambassador was mingling with the crowd. “No. But I will be as soon as this party is over.”

     “I guess we all have to do things we’d rather not,” Garrus added, feeling strangely disappointed.

     She nodded. “You’re more right than you know.” She stood up off the wall. “Listen, I’d love to talk some more, but I am desperately needed on the other side of the room. It was nice to meet you.”

     She ducked around him with surprising dexterity and disappeared into the crowd. The ambassador was hot on her trail.

     “Did you see which way the Lieutenant Commander went?” He asked. Garrus nodded and pointed the opposite direction.

 

     Shepard smiled slyly at him.

     “What?” Garrus asked.

     “You... almost had me, clever man.”

     “What do you mean?”

     She got up off the couch and started to brush her hair back into place. “This never happened. I knew it. You made it up.”

     “What are you talking about? Of course it happened.”

     “Come on, Garrus. I would remember a nice little cross-species heart-to-heart that practically set you on the path straight for the Normandy. Really nice try though. It’s a sweet little story.”

     “I’m not joking! You really said those things! You were there,” he insisted. She smirked at him. Then leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

     “Sure, honey.” She stood back up. “Whatever you say.”

     Garrus watched her go and sighed.

 

     Two weeks later, Shepard returned back to their apartment. It had been a long day of meetings; rebuilding after the Crucible was anything but simple.

     “Garrus?” She called. She took off her coat and undid her bun, massaging her scalp. “Garrus?” She wandered into the main living area. But it was empty. He was usually home at this time.

     She turned to go up to the bedroom, but noticed a wrapped parcel on the kitchen counter. It was rather thin and Shepard recognized Garrus’ handwriting immediately. ‘To my dear. From your honey. I wasn’t joking.’

     She frowned and opened the package. It was a framed picture of a large group of Turians. Oh, wait. There was a small group of humans in the front center. 

     Suspicions on high alert, she inspected it closer. She recognized herself in the second row, grimacing. The ambassador standing right next to her. She started scouring over the rest of the photo. But it was difficult to parse out faces; they were so small.

     “Fourth row, nine from the left.” Garrus’ voice came from behind her. She turned around to face him. She looked between him and the picture a few times. His face was the perfect picture of neutrality, but she could detect the slightest smile in his eyes. So she looked back down at the picture, counting carefully.

     “Six, seven, eight…” A grin spread across her face. Above her fingertip was the undeniable picture of a young Garrus Vakarian.

     She laughed.

     “Holy… This is nuts!” She held it up to him, pointing himself out. He smiled widely. “You weren’t joking.”

     “Not about this.”

     She laughed again and covered her mouth with her hand as she stared at the picture. “You know where this has to go, right?”

     She brushed past him and he followed her back to the living room. It took them a few minutes to hunt down a hammer and nails, but in the end it hung proudly next to the photo of the Normandy team.

     “I hope you punched that ambassador,” he said as she straightened the picture.

     “As soon as we left the party.” She stepped back in front of him to check her work. “And then when we got back to Earth, I reported him for harassment. He’s a temp now.”

     “That’s my girl.”

     He wrapped his arms around her waist as they both looked at the picture. “No Vakarian without Shepard,” he said.

     She turned to face him, encircling her arms about his neck. “Thanks, past-me. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

     He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead.


End file.
